Prologue

1598, Scotland 

“Nathaniel! Come inside, Nathaniel!” a voice called. 

“O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright,” young Nathaniel quoted. She giggled happily and turned over on her bed of grass to take in the darkening sky. 

“Nathaniel Elizabeth Bristow!” 

“It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night. As a rich jewel on an Ethiop’s ear,” Nathaniel continued, quoting her favorite play by a man named William Shakespeare. Rumor was that this playwright’s words would live throughout the ages. It didn’t matter if they did or not; Nathaniel was almost as smitten with Shakespeare as she was with her own fiancé. 

“Nathaniel, come inside this instant!” 

Nathaniel could almost see her Aunt Millie standing in the doorway with hands on her wide-set hips. Tossing her brilliant, auburn hair over her shoulder, she made no attempt to answer or showed any signs of compliance. 

Well, Romeo, you do know how to leave a girl breathless, she thought to herself. “Have not saints’ lips and holy palmers too?” She let out another giggle as she said aloud. “Aye, pilgrim. Lips that they must use in prayer.” “O, dear saint let lips do what hands do,” a familiar male voice quoted from behind her. 

“Laurence!” Nathaniel jumped up from the ground and threw her arms around the brawny man she would soon marry. 

“So where is my kiss, fair maiden?” he questioned with a small smirk. 

“Right here, good sir,” she whispered in his ear, batted her lashes, and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. 

“Nathaniel!” Aunt Millie had finally reached a truly exasperated state. 

“You sure do have good, old Millie vexed again tonight,” Laurence commented, holding Nathaniel off the ground. 

“She’s always upset with me,” she said matter-of-factly. 

“Come.” He swung her around in his arms. “One mustn’t keep her waiting too long.” 

Nathaniel stuck out her lower lip in a false pout. 

“Go now. It is time for you to retire,” he ordered, kissing her again. “And goodnight.” He set her gently back on her feet. 

“If you insist,” she replied with a playful grimace, but her smile returned quickly. “Goodnight, until it be morrow!” she said, turning on her toes and starting toward the old cottage. 

Nathaniel smiled to herself. Oh, I love him. 

She soon approached the cottage where she had been living with her Aunt Millie for the past year. It stood alone in the darkness, positively minuscule next to the large trees on either side. She walked into the front door, kissed her flustered aunt on the cheek, and headed up the stairs to her tiny room. 

Life had been so different since her family had gone away. After their parents’ deaths, Nathaniel had drawn her happiness from her twin. They were opposites in personality. While Nathaniel was quiet and reserved, like all good girls should be, her brother was known for his recklessness. It was that recklessness that had gotten him killed. 

Laurence had held Nathaniel together throughout the traumas she had endured of late. Gradually, she had grown to love him and he her. The most joy Nathaniel now felt was in thoughts of the shared future that lay ahead of them. He wanted to work for the church and she wanted a family. Their dreams fit together wonderfully. 

When Nathaniel reached her room, she did not undress. She had no intention of staying shut up in the cottage, no matter what Laurence said. She couldn’t waste this perfect night. She had to enjoy the serenity of her favorite clearing in the woods. It was her secret place. No one knew of it, not even Laurence. 

Impatiently, she waited in her slowly darkening bedroom. It seemed like hours before her aunt’s lamp went out and the obnoxious snoring started. 

The shimmy down the oak tree outside her window was a dangerous exercise but something she had done many times before. Nathaniel suspected Aunt Millie knew about her late-night excursions because she had started to mutter that her brother had died and left Nathaniel his lack of sense. 

It took her a few minutes to get her feet firmly planted on the ground. One glance up at Millie’s darkened window told her that she was free. After taking a deep, calming, breath, Nathaniel trotted happily toward the woods. 

Upon her arrival, Nathaniel sat on her favorite stump and drank in the sounds of the romantic forest around her. Sitting there, clutching her well-used book in her hands, she sighed. Despite all of the loss she had experienced, she found that she was at peace. 

After a long while, however, Nathaniel yawned several wide yawns in a row and decided it was time to head back home and slip into her soft bed. She had almost reached the house when she heard a shrill, penetrating scream that made her blood run still. Aunt Millie! Another scream pierced the darkness. Aunt Millie was not screaming out of anger. Reality hit like a boulder to the head. Terror! 

Nathaniel took off running toward the house, but before she reached her destination, the screams were suddenly silenced. Her heart skipped several beats. As she approached, everything looked dark and peaceful, but something felt wrong; unsettling. Cautiously, Nathaniel peered in the front door. It was propped open. Looking down, she noticed a trail of large, muddy footprints on the floor, much larger than her own. 

“Hello?” she whispered into the darkness. 

Crash! 

What was that? 

Crash. There it is again! The disturbance was coming from the small kitchen at the back of the cottage. Just then, she saw a blur of a dark shadow speeding toward her. Her heart pounded under her ribcage. The shadow ducked around the corner and into the study. It’s as big as a man! Scared but curious, she followed. It was like nothing she’d ever seen before. 

“Hello?” she croaked, her mouth dry. 

A low, sharp snarl echoed through the room, answering her call. Horrified, she turned to run but strong arms prevented her escape. She hardly recognized her voice as her own terrified scream pierced the air. A hand clamped over her mouth. The man hissed and bent over her trembling frame. An excruciating pain issued from the base of her neck. Her breath came in rapid spurts, but she could make no sound, due to the long fingers still covering her mouth. 

Nate felt herself growing weak, slipping from consciousness as her blood left her body. She slumped to the ground, but the arms cradled her as she fell. Her head lolled back, exposing her face. She heard a sharp intake of breath that wasn’t hers. “He said you were beautiful.” The smooth voice mused. Somewhere far away, Nate heard a ripping sound. “He was right.” Something smooth and cool pressed against her lips. “Drink.” The voice commanded. The warm liquid tasted of metal and burned her throat. 

Nate’s eyes fluttered open, she saw the blurred outline of a face. “You are mine now,” it said. He released her, Nate dropped to the floor with a thump. The man, the shadow, was gone. Nate’s hand reached for her throbbing neck, she felt two small punctures in her skin. 

This is when the real pain started.